


Oh My God!

by dawnstruck



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Art!Clones, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:31:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstruck/pseuds/dawnstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His face is staring at his from half a dozen photos. Only it’s not his face, really.</p><p> </p><p>Inspired by a tumblr post musing how much cooler it would have been to have Art be one of the male clones batch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh My God!

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post:
> 
> http:// anchords.tumblr.com /post/94112128809/tockthewatchdog-tockthewatchdog-reasons

"Oh my God," Art says when Sarah shows them the files.

"And those are just the ones Marion Bowles gave me access to," she points out, "I have a feeling there are more. A lot more."

There something like controlled anger in her voice, but also resignation. The knowledge that there must be many more of her as well.

When he first found out about the clones, he wondered how Sarah - and Beth apparently - took it so well. How they realized they were an experiment, a freak show really, and just rolled with it. Idly, he had wondered how he would have reacted in a similar situation. Now he knows.

It feels like he hit the hard ground after a long, grueling fall. His entire body hurts, jarred by the impact of the shocking revelation. His jaw is aching, too, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s because he’s been clenching his teeth for the past few minutes.

He forces himself to relax, but it doesn’t really work. He feels numb and out of his depth.

 

His face is staring at his from half a dozen photos. Only it’s not his face, really.

There is a facebook profile pic from some geeky guy wearing hipster glasses. A snap shot of a grinning dude, wearing an afro and a hawaian shirt. A mugshot of a man covered in scars and tattoos. A family portrait of a stately reverent.

Hipster glasses is from Glasgow, some English Lit professor. Afro from Sydney, working as a farm hand. Scarface is the member of some gang over in France and the priest is a Texan Conservative, of all things.  
Art has a feeling he would hate every single one of them.

 

Felix has gotten a hold of the other files, leafing through them in avid interest. Apart from the information given there, Sarah had told them all she knows, all she had seen at Bowles’ estate. The little girl clone. And the Art lookalike behind reinforced glass.

With shock Art realizes that he must have a monitor, too. Is it his ex-wife? The chief? Maybe Deangelis, he thinks, because she’s been much too nosy these past few weeks.

Sarah is angrily flexing her hands around her coffee mug as if she would rather smash it against the wall. Since Helena’s disapperance - or rather her kidnappings, as they suspect - all of them have been pretty high strung.

 

Felix is the only one who seems to be taking it all in stride at the moment. Then again, he’s the only one who doesn’t have a dozen clone brothers running around. At least, Art dearly hopes so. He doesn’t think he could survive an army of Felixes.

Especially as this one is now running his fingers over the photo of a burly corporal who’s wearing a uniform and Art’s frown.

"So, there is military you and psycho you," Felix muses, his gaze lifting up to the ceiling, before zooming in on Art, "Oh my God, do you think there is a queer you?"

"Felix!" Sarah groans, only because Art isn’t quick enough to beat her to the punch. But there is a wan smile on her face and maybe Fe’s antics are just what they need right now.

"Well, there’s me me," Art points out, placing his hands on his hips.

"What?" Felix asks, giving him a confused look.

"I mean, maybe there are other queer clones, but there’s definiftely queer me me," Art explains slowly.

"You’re queer?" Felix spluttered, "But… you mentioned your ex-wife and-"

"And these are the wonders of bisexuality," Art says dryly, vaguely miffed that Felix of all people would be this surprised.

"But, but… I never even suspected!" Felix whines as if this were the true conspiracy.

"What, you think I would have endured your presence without at least the benefit of your ass in those jeans?" Art taunts and feels rather satisfied when it makes Felix fucking Dawkins blush.

"I feel so betrayed!" Felix throws a hand to his chest, striking a dramatic pose, "We could have been shagging for ages!"

"Oh my God!" Sarah exclaims and marches over to the door.

Neither Felix nor Art even hear her leave.


End file.
